


April 2009 Fic Bits

by Merfilly



Category: DCU (Comics), Vertigo (Comics)
Genre: Multi, Request Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-30
Updated: 2009-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-13 09:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1220827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Same as the name</p>
            </blockquote>





	April 2009 Fic Bits

She knew there had to be trouble, as she watched the disheveled, rumpled blond with the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips walk toward her. He was letting a large silver coin flip and roll across his fingers as he walked, and Zatanna could sense something mystical about the coin.

"John..."

"Easy, luv, not here to upset a whit off of you. Just following up on a sodding curse, was in town, saw the Marquis, and your name. How could I not say a cheerio to my best girl?"

That was about the time the coin began to glow, intent on making a lie out of John Constantine's words, and Zee just sighed.

"Let's get to the bottom of it, without the foreplay of your tales?"

"And here I keep reading the bleeding foreplay is all you birds want."

* * *

When it came to being rescued, Barbara Gordon still rather hated it. It made her resent the chair, hate the Joker more passionately, and plain wish things were still what they had been as Batgirl, when she rescued people.

Still, there was a plus side. For the woman who had once stuttered and blushed at the rare praise coming out of Batman's lips, she would admit she had not done too bad in handling the discreet arrival of Wonder Woman. She even blessed Martian Manhunter in her heart for choosing the woman to do it.

It didn't irk so much if it was a kick ass woman like Diana. Especially as the Amazon had been so gracious, offering to teach her a few tricks to add to her growing arsenal of immobile fighting tricks.

* * *

The invitation was neatly penned in a feminine hand, inviting Cissie to be at a certain place at a certain time on a certain day. The invitation only said that it was to be an informal party, picnic and barbecue style. It also said if she needed help getting there, that she could ask Roy Harper to get her there.

That alone set her nerves up, but whetted her curiosity.

The day came, and Roy showed up for her, as she had asked, with Lian. They made their way to the party via a borrowed T-Jet, and set down in the middle of Washington State's wilder outdoors. Cissie looked, blinked, and saw her mother was among the gathered. So was Oliver Queen, looking rather bemused, an Asian woman she did not know with a young boy at her side, Connor Hawke who stood with a woman of mixed ancestry, and the current Speedy, Mia. 

Off to the side of the Asian, Dinah Lance was talking with a monk and a guy chain smoking cigarettes.

"Man, Ollie's got to be out of his mind at Di doing this," Roy commented as he saw Hal setting down nearby.

"What is it all for?" Cissie asked, wondering just how things with her mom were going to go. They never talked about those test results, after all.

"Ollie would be fifty, if he hadn't died. This is for his birthday..and she wanted everyone here." Roy grinned. "Welcome to the family, kiddo...in a big way."

Cissie just swallowed her nerves down and prepared to face the gathering as they walked off the T-Jet.

* * *

It was a walking cliché, and the man watching didn't believe for a minute that his prey had fallen to the myth. More likely, the rookie had been sent out for the perennial vice of law enforcement.

When Officer Grayson walked out of the local donut shop with five dozen of the things, his watcher was amused, and played with the idea of startling him then and there.

That, however, would upset the game plan. 

No, Slade Wilson would wait, and later, maybe that very night, Deathstroke would make himself known.

By the time it was over, Officer Grayson might not be on a donut run ever again, and Nightwing would be one step closer to digging himself into a hole that only Slade could pull him out of.

That made the contract on Grayson's partner so much sweeter for the mercenary.

* * *

Dick looked up at Kory, watching her get that dreamy look on her face as the aftermath of the loving passed. He then looked at the other man in their bed, seeing Roy was all but brainless with pleasure.

Kory settled on Dick's shoulder a minute later, and Roy snuggled on his other, effectively pinning him down to the bed, and he really didn't mind.

"Kory?" he finally asked a little later, knowing none of them were wanting sleep, despite the fact they were sated.

"Yes, Dick?"

"Is it really a custom to sleep with your intended's best friend?"

Kory just smiled at him, mischief in her eyes, and Roy chuckled.

* * *

It was a quiet room the couple were led to, where Hartley waited in his prison uniform. Linda and Wally exchanged a glance, hoping they were doing the right thing. Hartley had been a friend, and once Wally had sorted out all the switchings and changes of heart, he believed Hartley still was.

"Hi," Linda said softly, as they both sat opposite the man.

Hartley looked at her, at Wally, and nodded. "Hey, Linda. Still gorgeous, you know."

Lind laughed softly. "Thanks."

"How are you?" Wally asked, hoping that if/when Hartley ever got out, they'd not have to worry about Piper resurfacing.

"Bored to tears, missing the life outside, and... missing James."

Wally reached over, clasping the manacled hands on the table between his own, with Linda placing her hands there too.

"We're sorry. If I had listened more carefully..."

"Don't, Wally." Hartley looked at him with dry, red-rimmed eyes. "Can't play that game. So...I just keep him in memory."

"We all will," Linda promised.

* * *

_You really should. Just go, make yourself known to them._

You drift forward, unseen in the crowd, never truly there, always an observer, never a participant.

_Show them the way. Help them._

You know better. You have seen the fear, the anger, the lashings of a violence turned outward for the terror that the things which are different might change all they have, or all they are.

_They are different, apart from their own. Make them see you as you are._

You can't, though. You let them pass, knowing who each of them truly is under the drab clothes of Middle-Class America, and you remain unseen, just another man in the crowd.


End file.
